Framed
by Broadway-Hobbit
Summary: Coulmier is locked away from the world. Secretly he has been writting their story, but Royer-Collard has found it. Scared that it may be his down fall, the Doctor frames Coulmier for the murder of the new Abbe. Pleases R&R.New Chapter!
1. Chapter 1 Distress in Dover

Chapter One- Distress in Dover  
  
It was cold out as the flustered girl hastened up the street. Her chest rose and fell heavily and her calves ached. She had to get there before it closed, and the sun had already greeted the horizon. Up ahead she could see the old building standing gloomily. She ignored the stares of prying eyes, all wondering why this young girl ran madly down the street.  
  
Her gloved hands pounded at the heavy oak door as tears ran down her flushed cheeks. The door parted only wide enough for an old voice to yell out, "We are closed for the night and wish to drink and be merry! We have enough depression on our hands. Come back tomorrow!"  
  
She let out a long wail as the door snapped shut. "Please sir, have pity and hear me! It 'tis an urgent matter that can not wait until the light of the morn. For the case I present you is filled with many twists and turns, and much deception, and we have but a week to prepare for the trial!" she cried out, slumping to the stone steps.  
  
The door opened abruptly, "Kindly get to your feet miss. It's bad advertising to have the mad on our doorstep. Come in and tell me your story. You don't mind if I sip my brandy, do you?" He lifted her to her feet and led her to a couch in his office.  
  
He was a finely aged man of fifty with black hair and silver highlights. Wrinkles defined his face in such a way that he reflected power and strictness, but at the same time, showed a kindly manner.  
  
"My name is Christina Chauncer," said the girl in her distressed, French accent.  
  
"And I am Henry Johnson, but I assume, my dear, you already knew that," he replied as he downed the Brandy.  
  
"Indeed I did, sir. It is sir, correct? Oh pardon me, but I sometimes have trouble with my English and was not sure about that word. It is so much easier to call one monsieur. But babbling, aren't I. Often I do when I am nervous. Some girls faint while I talk nonsense." she was cut off by Mr. Johnson.  
  
"Mademoiselle Chauncer, please get to the point of your coming here. My stomach is making the most terrible sounds of hunger," he said rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Please forgive me. I have been on my own over a year now. My mother died in childbirth and my father, last year from Consumption. I have no other family, so with my rather large inheritance I moved from Paris to Dover. I received word this afternoon that a dear friend of mine and my late family is in dire need of my help. He is the Abbe de Coulmir, though no longer an Abbe for reasons I shall explain in due time. We grew up together until I was nine and he fifteen. It was then he went off to school to become a priest. He often visited my father and I until two years ago. It was right as my father came down with his illness and we had too much on our minds to think of dear Coulmir. But as my father lay on his deathbed I beckoned the Abbe, but he did not come. Stricken by grief, the Abbe was last in my thoughts and I feel very ashamed of that. It was not until today that I learned where he has been. He has been held prisoner at the asylum Charenton, the very place he devoted his life to! Now, a Doctor Royer- Collard, who imprisoned him in the first place, claims that the Abbe is not insane but a dangerous man who must be put to his death for the murder of the new Abbe," she paced the room as Mr. Johnson's eyes followed her.  
  
"So your pious friend is charged with murder and now there is the nasty threat of the guillotine. Well, did he do it?" he murmured half to himself.  
  
Christina stared madly at him, "Of course he did not do it! The Abbe Coulmir would never harm a fly. It took that much peace within himself to work lovingly with the insane day in and day out. The very Marquis de Sade was under his watch. I'll have you know that he gave poor Abbe the most hell."  
  
"Mademoiselle Chauncer, with all due respect to your sweet opinion, people do change. Why in heavens name was he even committed in the first place?" he said mockingly.  
  
"One thing you must understand, Mr. Johnson, is that I have very few details. Frankly I will not beat around the proverbial bush. I have the money to pay you and it is said that you are the best lawyer in Europe. When we get to France we both shall learn every juicy detail. However, we have very little time and must leave tomorrow!" she fell to the couch and began to weep.  
  
"Dear, don't cry. I shall accept your silly, futile case. I have many other cases that my poor partner shall now be burdened with thanks to you. But I think I need a challenge. Have you tickets for a packet?" he asked getting to his feet.  
  
"Oh yes, I am quite prepared. I was busy making all f the arrangements or I would have called on you sooner. The packet for France leaves tomorrow at noon. I trust you shall meet me at the docks," she said resolutely as she walked through the door into the frigid night.  
  
"Do not fear young miss. I shall be there. A trip to France will do me good. England can be so over bearing at times. But have faith, dear child, for there I will be. I shall save your cherub friend to the best of my abilities. I have a strong hatred of the guillotine and to let her eat a life that I may save is to let her eat the flesh of my brother. The ex-Abbe de Coulmir shall have the best lawyer in all of Europe, no, in all of the world. Ah, but my dear, you must be tired. Speed home and get some rest before our long journey tomorrow," he kissed her hand and shut the door after her. 


	2. Chapter 2 Locked In His Mind

Chapter 2- Trapped in His Mind (Sorry this took so long in coming)  
  
He sat on the cold, hard stone floor, a dull frown upon his angelic face. It was dark for the most part, only bits of light filtering in from under the door. If one could see him clearly they would look upon a pitiable soul with tears in his bright green eyes that trickled down his face.  
  
With out any warning he burst into a long tortured scream, sprawling fully out onto the floor now. All he could think of was she, and it hurt him more than that cursed drowning chair, or even the lady guillotine that beckoned him in his dreams.  
  
"I have failed! I have failed you, my angel! Why do you haunt me? Leave me be! Go! Damn you God! Even when my head rests in that merciless basket and the knitting is all through, you will still taunt me and tease me. I shall never rest in peace! God why?" The question was directed to the almighty himself, for the man had gotten roughly to his knees and grasping his hands together, began mouthing a prayer. He grasped for his rosary, but it was not there. He remembered himself never getting a new one after the Marquis choked on his. He rested his head on the ground and cried.  
  
There was a loud bang on the door followed by a mans rough voice, "Shut up in there, and get your self to the door! The doctor wishes to see you."  
  
His tears stopped and his eyes filled with a deep hatred. Slowly he got to his trembling, weak, feet and made his way the short way to the door. It took all his strength to open the little window, that was nearly rusted shut, that opened to the outside corridor.  
  
Doctor Royer-Collard stood with a smug grin upon his face, his arms folded, wearing all black, "I dare say Coulmier, you're as good as the Marquis, if not better! I don't know how you managed to get that damned letter out of this, or even how you managed to write it, yet somehow it found its way to your lovely friend and she has just arrived in Paris. She has sent word that she and her lawyer will be calling on you tomorrow."  
  
For the first time since she died, Coulmier felt a glimmer of glorious hope and a smile graced his face, "Christina!"  
  
"Ah, so she is dear to you! This will make everything so very much easier. Let it be known, my dear Abbe, if you utter one word to your sweet little fairy or her lawyer that will win you this case, you will have yet another murder against you. And all I will have to say is, ' Oh dear, perhaps I should have not left them alone in the same room'. She'll be dead, the lawyer will be dead, and you will be dead. Now we truly do not need all of those deaths, do we? We can keep it nice and simple, you. Or, everybody you love dies because of you. A simple choice really. Remember, the woman you loved last time died because of your mistakes, don't let that happen again. Don't look so gloomy, Coulmier. It's a lose-lose situation for you. In the end, your head will come off, I shall laugh, and bathe merrily in your blood."  
  
The morbid man had his wrinkled and weathered face close to Coulmier's now and slowly licked his own lips. The Abbe was near tears again. All hope had just vanished forever.  
  
The doctor slammed the little window shut and the menacing iron rang through out the cell. The doctor knew of Coulmier's greatest pain and often took great advantage of it, leaving him in isolation as long as possible. Nearly twenty-four hours a day he had left the Abbe alone, until he had found Coulmier writing the twisted and bloody tale of the happenings of Charanton. Then Coulmier had been locked in the Marquis old cell, But when the murder had been framed and Paris had left the innocent Abbe in the hands of the murderous doctor, he had been locked up in a deep dark cell, previously used for storage. When Coulmier had truly been Abbe, he had thought it too cruel to keep any human soul locked in such a desolate room. Ah, the sweet irony that life always is. His own pity being thrown back at him, his own nightmares coming true. Through the tears he let out a small laugh.  
  
Madeleine stood in the corner holding her basket of linens, smirking at him, at what he had become. Coulmier shuttered at the illusion. His reached out hand fought for her. Suddenly he slapped himself. "Get a hold of yourself! This is what they want! Maybe you do belong in an asylum."  
  
He sat up, trying to regain what dignity, if any, he had left. He glanced at the corner again and she was gone. Only unwanted darkness filled with Satan himself. "Come and get me you bastard!" he yelled. Slowly he shut his eyes and went from one living hell to the next. 


	3. Chapter 3 Foreign, Sort of Homey Place

Chapter 3- A Foreign, Homey Sort of Place  
  
It was a wonder to Christina how Mr. Johnson managed to snooze with the coaches constant jerking. She watched with an impatient look in her glossy eyes as his wrinkled head lulled back and forth with every bump on the road.  
  
They had reached Paris not ten minutes ago and were headed towards the humble inn they had booked rooms in for the night. She pulled her eyes away from her sleeping lawyer and forced herself to look out the window at the grotesque picture the street seemed to paint.  
  
Poverty and hunger ruled supreme here, and it was quite clear that the many revolutions that had taken place in this very city, had done hardly anything to help those who were the very poorest. The air was filled with the putrid aroma of vomit and feces, and her ears filled with the sounds of begging and screaming.  
  
All the peasants were scantly clad, and what was there to hide their yellowed skin, hung off of their skeleton frame loosely. Ever since they had entered the city, a small mob of these pitiful creatures had been following, their hands grasping at the dusty coach, their moans of hunger barely audible.  
  
"Terrible, is it not? Truly, France must do something. Their poor are getting unbearable. Before long they'll have yet another bloody revolution," Mr. Johnson sighed, whipping his squinted eyes.  
  
Christina just continued to stare out, praying this ride through hell would not last much longer. As if her prayer was answered, the coach came to a sudden, violent stop.  
  
"Ah, Miss Chauncer, we are here. You look dreadful! Perhaps some rest would bring back your health. Yes, do retire to your room. I must write to this Doctor to tell him of our coming. Good day, and if you have any questions, please feel free to once I am back," Mr. Johnson helped her out and kissed her hand, a shiver ran through him as he did so. Then with a smile, strode off down the street, barking in English at the poor beggars.  
  
Christina was far to vexed to argue over her appearance or of her state of well being. She did agree silently that she was tired and decided to go up and rest until Mr. Johnson returned.  
  
She woke up around six that evening and deciding to go find Mr. Johnson to discuss what was to happen tomorrow, pulled on her robe and went to the door next her room.  
  
She knocked on the door lightly and was quite taken aback when Mr. Johnson burst open the door in quite a furious manner, his hair all askew, shirt undone (not a very pretty picture) and his glasses perched upon his large, narrow nose.  
  
"What!" he yelled furiously, though his eyes seemed to regret it once they saw whom it was.  
  
For a moment Christina just stood taking the odd scene in and then, "Well, um, not to be rude, or prying but, what in heavens name are you doing?"  
  
He seemed then to realize how very odd this all looked, " You hired me to save your friends life, thus I am now going over his records to build up our defense. I can't very well do that with out a foundation, now can I? Don't stand out there in that hallway like a little lost bird, come in."  
  
Shaking off her look of surprise, she strutted past Mr. Johnson, who watched her every movement so intently he slammed his finger in the door.  
  
"Mr. Johnson, what precisely are our plans for tomorrow, sir?" she asked, taking a seat by the fire.  
  
" What do you mean, Miss Chauncer? We'll leave around six in the morning and arrive there about six in the evening. From there, well, we'll see once we've made it that far," he replied, taking the opposite seat, "You have a problem with worrying. There is nothing we can do about anything tonight so go get a bite to eat, get to bed, and don't worry."  
  
He offered his hand to her, which she took, and helped her to her feet. Her skin was soft as the finest silk. As she thanked him for all of his help, he could not help but notice how much compassion shone in her eyes. And has she retired to her room, he breathed in ever last bit of her scent of Lavender.  
  
As he smoked his pipe over his papers, he wept. Until this bright flame had entered his life, he had been a comfortable bachelor, now he was totally in every way, alone. 


	4. Chapter 4 Arrival

Chapter 4- Arrival  
  
The asylum loomed up ahead, dark and forbidding, framed in the far from placid thundering clouds that circled far above. Other than the desolate shape, hardly anything could be made out in the cold, hard rain that poured stubbornly down on them.  
  
Christina Chauncer's heart pounded in her chest, she would be seeing Coulmier so soon. Her eyes had been fixed on the shape that slowly got larger and larger, not noticing Mr. Johnson had been staring contentedly at her for the past five minutes.  
  
If one could have read Mr. Johnson's mind at that moment, his cruel thoughts would have been this. He pitied her, it was true. Nobody so young, so precious, should have so much strain on their heart. But more so he pitied himself. Damn this Coulmier! Why did she shed those tears for him, a man who chose to love god over this beautiful child that no doubt would have been his at any moment he asked? But he, Mr. Johnson, had never had the opportunity to be loved. Wasn't that a cause to be pitied?  
  
Mr. Johnson had never so much as asked for a penny's worth of tears when his life was filled with woe, not that that had been too often, yet now he wanted more than any thing for her to throw out her slender arms and exclaim, "Poor Mr. Johnson, such terribly lonely life!"  
  
His attention went back to her, still staring, wondering what fate awaited her beloved. For no doubt she loved him. And not as a brother either. She loved him as a wife will love her husband. With his many years of experience and life, Mr. Johnson was sure of this notion.  
  
He broke his gaze and shook his head. But yet, why shouldn't she belong to him. It was insane, Mr. Johnson reminded himself, to think this young woman, life fully ahead of her, would ever fall for him. But love was not always essential. Security he could offer her. And even if he could not offer her that, he deserved her. After all of the trials his life had brought along, working his ass off for the rest of the world, she was his!  
  
It was at this moment that Mr. Johnson made a promise to himself that he would have Miss Chauncer no matter what he had to do. He would have continued and elaborated his promises to himself about what he would do to her once she did belong to him, but the coach stopped and Christina gave a small moan.  
  
Christina had no thought of all about her future at the moment, and the thought that somebody was planning it for her at that very moment was no where in her mind. She was worried, not for herself of course. Coulmier's trial was only four days away now, and that was counting that very day.  
  
The door opened and out side stood a tall, bald man, garbed in a black over coat, drenched to the bone. "Well then, come on! You best hurry, rains terribly today. We've got tea waiting for you, and the Doctor will see you after that. Come on!" said the man, helping Christina down, who took his advice and ran full out across the mad to the door.  
  
The first thing you will notice about the wretched asylum are the screams that echo endlessly down corridors, bouncing off the cold stone walls. Ah, and then that wonderful sense of smell kicks in and with the smell of rot, mildew and death all mixed into one alluring aroma, the set is almost set. Immediately Christina thought to Paris in just one building.  
  
Mr. Johnson, seeing her disgusted look, quickly pulled from his pocket a handkerchief and handed it to her to place under her nose.  
  
It may seem hard to believe Christina could be totally oblivious to all of these signs of affection from Mr. Johnson, but with Coulmier's life on the line, she had more important things to worry about, something Mr. Johnson seemed to notice and grew increasingly more envious.  
  
"In here, if you please. There's some tea by the fire if you would like. The Doctor will see just as soon as he can," the tall man said rather hastily, closing the door behind Mr. Johnson and Christina.  
  
Christina walked over to the tea and shakily poured herself a cup, spilling quite a bit. "Would you like a cup, Mr. Johnson?"  
  
Smiling slightly, "Yes, but perhaps I should do the honors." He to the teapot away from her, making sure to touch her hand and feel her warmth. She backed away a bit nervously.  
  
Sitting down at a chair near to the fire, "Last night, when you were looking over Coulmier's records, did you find anything useful?"  
  
Mr. Johnson joined her, "Other than that he has a clean record, spotless record. Yet nothing that could prove him innocent I am afraid." He to a long sip and watched her fidget around as if trying desperately to think of some grand thought. "But don't worry, something is bound to come up." His tone wasn't very convincing, almost lazy and not caring.  
  
Christina was just about to comment on his tone when Doctor Royer- Collard burst merrily in. His was a man, slightly older than Mr. Johnson, with pure white hair and a devious grimace upon his face. Immediately Christina did not like him nor trust him.  
  
"You must be Christina Chauncer. I hope you are lovely. And this must be the acclaimed Mr. Johnson! An honor sir, truly an honor! It is a pleasure to meet you both," the man weaseled, though looking as far from a weasel as could be and more like an over fed hog.  
  
He shook their hands and pointed back to where they had been sitting.  
  
Before Mr. Johnson could express his thanks, Christina burst out, trying to seem as for from rude as possible, " With all due respect sir, I would very much like to see Coulmier now."  
  
The doctor stared her up and down for a moment and then, "Very well. I can not contain such an eager young foal. You will see that disgrace to the Catholic religion now. But I must warn you he is very mentally unstable."  
  
It was all Christina could do to hold in the slap she would have liked to plant on the Doctors cheek and the obscene comment, which would have accompanied it. Mr. Johnson, sensing the trouble, "Well on we go then." ***********  
  
His fingers picked at the stone floor, playing with the dust dully. Just one thing was in his mind, she was coming today. At this point, it did not matter to him that she would not be able to save his life, but to see a friendly, loving face was more than he could have ever wished for.  
  
Madeleine had returned to her corner and would not cease to stare at him. She was frowning, a complete sign of jealousy. He smiled grimly at the thought of for once making this figment aggravated, then curled up tightly in a ball so she could pester him no longer by her sight.  
  
Then there was a voice, soft and flowing from beyond the door. He listened as it grew steadily louder. There were three voices, one female, two male. He leapt to his feet, his weakness from hunger forgotten. Now he heard it loud and clear as a bell, "You have him locked in here!"  
  
He heard her tiny feet run to the door and hand push with every bit of herself to open the rusted window. He saw her.  
  
Not sure whether it was another mind game, he slowly reached his hand out to touch her face. Real.  
  
"Christina!" he managed to exclaim.  
  
"Don't be worried. I'm hear everything will be okay," she whispered through the window, taking his hand and resting her cheek on it. 


	5. Chapter 5 Silence

Chapter 5- Silent  
  
She was there and at that moment he felt almost happy, almost. For a long moment they just stood quietly, Coulmier running his finger softly over her face, removing the tears that ran down her face. And then she broke the silence, "Get him out of there! Where are the keys?"  
  
" Ah, but Miss Chauncer, you know I would love to do that, but he is far too dangerous to you and himself to let him out.." Said the icy voice of the doctor.  
  
"He is not dangerous and you know it! Let him out, now!" she screamed, spinning around. For the first time, Coulmier and Mr. Johnson's eyes met. Immediately Coulmier felt a strong surge of hatred towards this man for reasons unknown even to himself.  
  
" Let him out, sir. The lovely Miss Chauncer will be perfectly safe with me," Mr. Johnson said, not taking his eyes from the distraught Coulmier.  
  
Doctor Royer-Collard had never looked so very foul to Coulmier than as he placed the key in the keyhole and Coulmier smiled defiantly at him. The Doctor gave Coulmier a last warning look and opened the door.  
  
"Coulmier!" Christina rushed passed Mr. Johnson and the Doctor, both who tried to grab her, and into the arms of Coulmier. "I won't let anything happen to you! You, you are like my brother. My father loved you too. I won't let you be killed!"  
  
"Doctor, perhaps a private room for us could be arranged. Someplace a bit more comfortable," Mr. Johnson beckoned to the Doctor on a very wicked spun voice, scowling at Coulmier and Christina.  
  
"And some clothes sir, and food. They have been starving you haven't they. It's not right!" Christina had now let go of Coulmier, who was leaning against the doorway, and had walked over to the Doctor to snap in his face.  
  
"Yes, of course, right this way," the doctor replied dryly.  
  
He showed them back to the room where they had waited before, Christina steadying Coulmier as he grasped her. There he left them to talk, but not before whispering in Coulmier's ear, "I shall kill her, make no mistake, if you tell them anything."  
  
"Let me introduce myself. I am Mr. Johnson, your lawyer, and your only hope against the guillotine. Would you kindly have a seat and tell us your side of the story," The voice was extremely mocking.  
  
Nothing but silence followed as Christina and Mr. Johnson watched Coulmier's brow furrow. He watched them, his eyes darting back and forth from the two faces. He would just keep his mouth shut. They would not know, he would not tell them.  
  
He looked at Christina, his dear. Like she had put it, he was her brother and she his sister. He loved her, but more so he loved her father who had taken care of him, raised him. He would never let anything happen to his daughter.  
  
He saw the cross of the wall behind the two spectators and gazed at it. Why had he devoted his life to God? Was there a God? And if there was a God, why did he punish him so? Then it struck him. There was a God, and Doctor Royer-Collard was it.  
  
He started to cry. "Coulmier, just tell us. Please, it's the only way we can save you," Christina cried out, seizing his blanched hand. He shook his head violently no. "Mr. Johnson, might you leave us for a while. I'll come get you in a bit."  
  
Mr. Johnson was hardly pleased, but did as he was bid. Then he got the evil idea to pay a more intimate visit to the Doctor.  
  
With the abrupt slamming of the door, Christina broke into a long speech as tears erupted in much more numbers down her face, " I never knew you were imprisoned. I hate myself for ever thinking ill of you. After father died and you didn't answer my letters I thought you were just too busy for me. If I had ever known the truth! Coulmier, I'm so sorry.." But he broke her off with one sympathetic look.  
  
"Christina, you didn't do a thing. You have no need to apologize to me or anyone else. I was very distressed when Collard took great pleasure in reading me that letter telling me of your father's death, and then telling me I could not write back. It is I who should be sorry. For leaving you and your father for my own selfish ambitions," he said as he embraced her tenderly.  
  
"Your own selfish ambitions," she repeated, " How dare you say they are selfish. They are for God. For our creator. He deserves you more than me or my father. You once too believed that."  
  
"Yes, back younger and more gullible. To think there are more important than the people who love you and you love. God, there is no God other than being a ruthless terror that feeds upon peoples greatest fears. Christina, I am not the boy I was," he ended.  
  
"No you are not. Once you were a man who believed in and loved something so grand that you wanted to sacrifice everything for it, a very selfless act. Now you are a boy, a very selfish boy who is bitter towards everyone else just because his own demise may soon be immanent. You could be a martyr, but you will be nothing but a common petty thief, dying because of his own will to live. Coulmier, tell me what happened," her tone was desperate.  
  
"Like you make very clear, though don't say it, there are more important things than one murderers life. Yes, I did kill that Abbe, and took great pleasure in doing so," he lied.  
  
"You never were very good at lying. Then it was because you knew God was watching everything you did, now is no different no matter what you say. You did not kill that man anymore than you don't believe there is a God," she was shaking now.  
  
Coulmier knew it was no good lying, she knew him too well. He would just not say anything at all. As he watched her face redden as her eyes did, a strong desire came over him, a desire he had only one other time in his life. He pulled her face close to his and could feel her hot breath upon his face. She was no longer crying but trembling.  
  
"You must not ask questions. You must just trust me," he whispered to her, rubbing his nose lightly on hers. Then he pulled her even closer and kissed her lips. It was the most wonderful sensation to both of them, being Coulmier's only second time joining lips and Christina's first.  
  
He kissed her lips and then her neck, and inched his way down her body. And she kissed his head and ran her fingers through his dark hair. He looked up at her and kissed her lips again.  
  
He pushed away suddenly as her hands had started to pull off his shirt. "Why am I doing this? It will only make things harder! Go get the guards, shove me back in my cell, leave! Let me die!" he screamed, tossing himself down on the ground near the fire.  
  
"Why don't you let me help you?" she threw her body next to his.  
  
He looked at her and placed his hands on her face once more, " I love you, that's why." 


	6. Chapter 6 A Horrific Plan

Chapter 6- A Horrific Plot  
  
Mr. Johnson left the room very irritated. He wasn't sure he entirely trusted Coulmier being alone with Christina. Not that he worried about the young man killing her, but the thought of her giving herself to that boy.  
  
He made that thought leave his mind, reminding himself that she thought of Coulmier as a brother. Plus this would be the perfect time to pay a little visit to the Doctor. This visit he did not want Christina to hear.  
  
He walked down the corridor looking for someone who could point him to the office of the Doctor. He was about to ascend some stairs when he heard high pitched, squeaky type voice behind him exclaim, "Are you looking for something, or just nosing where you're not allowed to be?"  
  
It was a tall, thin woman with pursed lips and dirty blonde hair that reminded Mr. Johnson of straw. She was carrying a pile of papers looking extremely annoyed.  
  
"And why am I not aloud, might I ask? Of course I wasn't 'nosing', as you put it, merely looking for Doctor Collard's office. Do you know the way?" Mr. Johnson asked.  
  
"As a matter of fact I do, and was on my way there when I saw a strange man going up the stairs. Who are you?" she asked as he descended the stairs.  
  
"Mr. Johnson, the attorney for Coulmier, a prisoner here," he replied.  
  
"Ah, who would want to defend that disgrace? Can't believe he was an Abbe, can you. Terrible scandal for the Catholic church if I told them about what had been going on around here before he cracked. Had an affair with a chambermaid! A Catholic priest doing that, why it is more than I can bear to think of! But, come on, I'll show you to his office," she was not at all kind to Mr. Johnson.  
  
"Mr. Johnson!" the doctor seemed surprised, "Where is Miss Chauncer? Surely you have not left her alone."  
  
"I did, at her own bidding of course. It pains me deeply to have left her, but perhaps it is best that she sees his insanity and copes with it. May I speak to you in private," Mr. Johnson glanced at the woman whose eyes expanded greatly as this.  
  
She began to say something in protest but the Doctor beat her, "Yes, dear might you step outside. I got an order for a hundred books. Go file it will you." She left looking as if denied a very good treat.  
  
"Please take a seat, sir, and tell me what is on your mind. You've hardly been here an hour, and already you look a bit insane," the doctor said, taking a seat behind a giant oak desk. Mr. Johnson took the seat in front the desk and began to talk, "You threatened him, I know it so don't dare try to deny it. No he did not tell me, but a boy like that would hardly harm a fly. But don't look so frightened. I am sure you have your reasons for wanting Coulmier dead, and I don't have any desire to know them."  
  
"Your wrong, you know. And even if you were not, you can't prove anything," the Doctor intervened.  
  
"Like I said, I don't care what you say, you murdered that Abbe, and I could care less. I have a deal to make, and if you accept it, Coulmier shall be dead in the end, I give you my word," Mr. Johnson pointed to the brandy that sat on the desk, "May I?"  
  
"Yes, of course. But what do you mean, he'll be dead? You are his defense, surely you don't want him dead. He's the way you get paid."  
  
" But there is now more at stake than money, my dear doctor, much more. I have won many cases in my day, and if I wanted too I could win this one, but I don't want to. Haven't you noticed how very beautiful Miss Chauncer is? Entrancing. I want her more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. More even, then you want Coulmier dead. And this is where Coulmier comes into play. There is no doubt the two loves each other very deeply. They claim, of course, that it is only a sibling love. But only siblings can have sibling love. And she ran into his arms today left me no doubt of what I had hypothesized. I know that if Coulmier gets away, he will marry her. Don't look at me like that, after what God has put him through do you honestly think he would turn back to him. Even someone so pious as him would not. But must be mine, and I will marry her. That is why Coulmier must not live! The deal is this, you give me just enough information to make it look as if I had done my very best to try and get Coulmier off. But not enough to do so. And Coulmier will die, and I will marry Miss Chauncer, or else lose this case and have your entire life ruined. A simple choice, but one you must choose. Do you trust me or not?" Mr. Johnson looked slyly at the Doctor.  
  
Collard squirmed in his chair. He knew too much of this lawyer to know he could do anything he threatened. But to trust him and give him information? It could just be an easy way to collect information. But really he had no choice, "Fine. Come back tomorrow and I will give you a folder."  
  
Mr. Johnson smiled, bowed and walked out, shoving the straw haired woman to the ground as she was leaning against the door with her ear pressed against it.  
  
"Now who is 'nosing'", he asked laughing.  
  
She snuffed at him, got to her feet and ran inside the office, shutting the door briskly behind her. 


	7. Chapter 7 Desire

Chapter 7 Desire  
  
"You love me?" she asked.  
  
Coulmier looked at her and forced a smile, "More than anything." And it was true. His heart was totally hers. He still loved her father, but not in this way. And forget about brotherly love, this was much deeper.  
  
He longed to do nothing more than to kiss her, and by the way she was looking at him, she desired to do the same. Maybe even more.  
  
"Coulmier, let's forget for a moment that your life is on the line, shall we. What would we do if we were free, Coulmier, and you loved me then. We wouldn't worry about what happened next. Coulmier, kiss me again, show me your love," she pulled his face close to hers.  
  
"Christina, if we were free, I would be a Abbe, and I would still love you, but never show it. For, even free, I could never truly be free," he whispered.  
  
"Abbe, let it free. Forget about the future or where we are or what we might have been! Don't think of anything but now, if you can't be free. Think of the moment! Think of me, Coulmier. You love me," she pleaded.  
  
" I don't want you to get hurt. I can't let you get hurt, Christina, I can't!" he pulled away again.  
  
"I don't know how I'll be hurt any worse! You're already killing me now. If you don't get saved, I won't hurt any more than I am hurting now. It's impossible for me to hurt worse!" she screamed.  
  
Oh, he couldn't bear to see her like this. It hurt him and he saw Madeleine near the fire, laughing at his pain. He watched her, longing to through something thing at her. He turned back to Christina and grabbed her. "Damn me for ever sending that letter! Just damn me!"  
  
They began to kiss again. In a frenzy they toppled over one another, pulling off each other's clothing. He was down to his pants and she, her slip when there came a very loud knocking.  
  
"Miss Chauncer, Coulmier, are you alright in there?" came the voice of Mr. Johnson.  
  
"Oh, just fine. We need a few more moments alone if you would be so kind as to wait. I'll get you when we are through," Christina yelled franticly back.  
  
Mr. Johnson was not entirely convinced and stood at the doorway a moment longer, the doctor at his side. "Hope they are not making too much progress," said Mr. Johnson coldly to the doctor.  
  
He had a good idea as to what was happening in there, as did his companion. But he was too good of a man to admit anything and went storming away, his footsteps matching the thunder outside.  
  
"That was close," Christina had just enough time to mutter before Coulmier started kissing her again.  
  
**********************************  
  
"I hope her speaking with him doesn't take much longer. I am a bit nervous over the information she could be pulling from him. It could, it could ruin our plan," the doctor was staring at the stormy sky as it was randomly lit up by shocks of lightening.  
  
"I wouldn't really worry about that. He won't tell her anything. After telling me about that Madeleine, he'll be too cautious," Mr. Johnson was almost cheerful. Once Collard had told him that story, he was almost certain Coulmier would never have the nerve to express his love in anything but words again.  
  
"But what could be taking them so long?" Collard was shrunk in his chair, picking at his face now.  
  
"She is very determined and stubborn. But he is too. Come, have some brandy and don't worry."  
  
"Yes, both of those comments are true. Not a word out of him! Two hours and nothing," Christina had come in with Coulmier, who was looking extremely pleased at how worried Collard was. Christina's voice was grim but determined.  
  
" About time you were done. And about time he returned to his cell," Collard gestured to Coulmier.  
  
"Back to his cell! I think not. He hasn't eaten, nor has he gotten any fresh clothes like I asked for. Not to mention I will not let him be put back in that dark hole, or you will throw me in there to!" she went behind Coulmier and clutched him tightly around the waist.  
  
Mr. Johnson scowled and tapped Collard on the shoulder, "Oh very well! Here are some clothing!" He walked over to a cupboard and came out with some slacks and a button shirt. "Dinner will be served in your new cell which will have a bed and a window in it. Miss Chauncer is perfectly welcome to wait there until his dinner is served to make sure it is."  
  
It was ten at night by the time dinner was eaten and Christina was saying her good byes to Coulmier. She had asked Mr. Johnson to kindly wait down the corridor for her.  
  
"Don't worry tonight. Just remember that you love and you're loved. In the morning I'll be back. I will get you out of here but we have only two days left before your trial and I need your help," he silenced her with his finger.  
  
"I won't worry, if you won't," he smiled and she smiled back. He gave her one final kiss, sending delightful shivers down her back and then she left, very reluctantly.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
"What exactly did you discuss in there?" Mr. Johnson asked, as they were about to go into their separate rooms for the night.  
  
" I merely tried to get him to tell me something helpful, but he refused, saying he did not want to hurt me," she replied.  
  
"Oh, and that's all? I really must know everything if I am to win this case. No matter what you did or said, I will not hold it against you or him. But I must know," he demanded gently.  
  
She wasn't sure how or why it would make a difference but she did not see any hurt in telling how they loved each other, leaving out the many ways they had shown it of course. "He did say he was in love with me."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I said I loved him very much in return. Good night Mr. Johnson." 


	8. Chapter 8 The Story

Chapter 8- The Story  
  
It was six in the morning as Christina pounded on the door to Collard's room. She was alone, no sense in waking Mr. Johnson when she wanted to be alone. She doubted very much that Coulmier would say anything, if he ever said anything about it, in front of the lawyer.  
  
The doctor opened the door half asleep still with a very unarticulated "What is it?"  
  
"Doctor, may I have the keys to Coulmier's cell straight away. I very much would like to speak to him starting as soon as possible, as I only have a full day to gather information?" she asked, pleased to see he was not in his right mind at the moment.  
  
Mumbling something about going back to bed, he handed her the ring with a dozen keys on it and slammed the door in her face, none of these actions he would have done if he had been awake. Silently, as to not wake up any of the prisoners that could begin to scream and thus fully wake up Collard, she made her way to Coulmier.  
  
She looked in the window in the door and just stared at him for a moment. He was laid on his bed, wide-awake just staring at the ceiling with a dreamy sort of expression on his face. "One would never guess that you were nearly a condemned man," she said softly, opening the door, which quite startled him.  
  
" A but early in the morning Christina, aren't you?" Coulmier questioned, getting to his feet to run over to her.  
  
Taking him in her arms, " I was hoping to catch you off guard so you would tell me things. But I'm guessing you did not sleep."  
  
He shook his head as he looked into her eyes, once again with a dreamy far off look in his own. "I won't tell you anything, but I will tell you a story. The story of how I came to be locked up like this. I've decided that won't harm anything."  
  
He ran his thumb over her bottom lip and breathed her in. Once again they were kissing in one eternal embrace full of fire and passion that would always burn. Falling on the bed, him on top of her, careful though not to crush her, he exploded on to the tale, telling every gory detail. Then he got to the death of the Marquis.  
  
" Well, everyone thought he was dead. A very not so clever trick of mine. You see, a week before Sade's supposed death, I was waiting in Collard's office. He was due any moment and he had summoned me. I knew it was going to be about Madeleine. It was just the previous night of course that she had perished. Papers in his top drawer had caught my eye and I noticed my name. Naturally I went to investigate and found them to be papers committing me to the asylum. I was, to put it in kind words, immensely furious. But I would not have Collard know I knew of his plan. It would only speed things up. If I ran I would be caught. So I formed a plan of my own. I went to the Marquis, his tongue freshly ripped out. I would let him free, framing his death, and he would write the story. He wrote on the parchment I had brought that he agreed. Collard did not know what hit him. I came into his office a week later and told him Sade was dead and buried. He wrote to me and told me his address, which I soon wrote to, asking him to reply with how long the story should take. He wrote back saying he wrote only fictions and a biography was more than I deserved. He knew I couldn't go tell on him and get him captured again or else I would be in even greater trouble. A week later, I was thrown in this prison. And nobody ever guessed that Sade is still alive."  
  
He was in tears thinking about Madeleine but then looked down at Christina whose face was full of that blessed pity and he smiled and kissed her again. "Perhaps we should sit up. After all, the sun is rising and our friends should be here soon."  
  
"So why did Collard frame you?" was the shocking question that escaped Christina's lips.  
  
"Ha! I told you, I snapped and killed that Abbe. I was jealous. That cursed doctor had nothing to do with it," he said nervously and not at all convincingly.  
  
"Coulmier, you don't think me that stupid do you? You would never kill anyone, not even Collard if you had the chance. He framed you and threatened you not to tell me why. There is no use in denying it," she said, sitting on the bed while Coulmier had gotten to his feet to pace.  
  
She was figuring it out on her own! Even then, Coulmier was sure, Collard would have her killed. He had to stop her from going any farther. If he told her that he had threatened to kill her, she would not be deterred, and he was already dead so how could he threaten Coulmier?  
  
"Has he finally spoken on anything yet? Very unwise of you to come and try and question him on your own Miss Chauncer. You haven't any idea of the liability," Mr. Johnson had arrived and walked into the cell. Picking up Christina's hand he kissed it.  
  
Christina shot Coulmier a loving look to calm him down. She got to her feet, "Mr. Johnson, I had hoped that you would be up soon." She shot another look at Coulmier, this time rolling her eyes. Luckily, Mr. Johnson failed to notice this.  
  
"Yes, well, there are many things to do today. Miss Chauncer, I was wondering if I could have a few moments alone with M. Coulmier?" he asked suavely, getting rather close to her.  
  
She made eye contact with Coulmier who smiled and she replied, "Certainly, Mr. Johnson. I'll just be down the hall then." She left kind of worried, longing to be back by her loves side.  
  
"Love, such a strong word that makes people do such very strange things, even risk their lives for the one they love. You, my young cherub, are no exception. I know about you being threatened by Collard. We had a very good chat last night while she, um, conversed with you. Frankly, I have no use for you being alive, and money does not interest me. However, the young Miss Chauncer does. She deserves a life much better than any poor young fellow could ever give her, a life which I could," he paused a moment, letting all that he had said sink in and then went on. " If you have any more showings of your affections to the dear girl I will make sure she dies along side you. It's a lose-lose situation for you, lets just make sure you don't bring anyone down with you."  
  
" I knew I disliked you the moment I laid eyes on you. Now I know you can judge a book by its cover. You are a wicked man, Johnson. May you burn in hell!" Coulmier said this sternly yet quiet enough so as it would not carry down the hall.  
  
"Say what you will, but I love her too. If you have any decency at all, you will see that this marriage will be just what she needs. You're going to die, Coulmier. You must accept that fact," Mr. Johnson grasped his hand around Coulmier's neck. "You are dead."  
  
*************************************************************  
  
"Why do you draw back every time I draw close to you?" Christina asked as she sat next to Coulmier, who was ignoring her by playing with his fingers. " We have spent nearly the entire day and yet it's like you could care less if you live or die."  
  
"I killed a man so I should die. It says it in the bible. Your God says it," he got up and walked to the other side of the room.  
  
Christina threw down the parchment and quill she had in her hand for notes and stormed over to him, "Fine! Die! Why should I care if you don't? I only love you. It really isn't that hard to get over someone." She stormed out of the cell.  
  
"Damn it!" Coulmier whispered to himself, slouching to the floor. If she only knew. He was sure she knew that he loved her. At least he hoped she did. But somehow he had to let her know how he longed to embrace her, make every tear vanish. But he couldn't.  
  
"A bit upset, are we?" Mr. Johnson came into the sitting room Christina had just ran into.  
  
She stared up at him, "Just a little."  
  
"Then it will be terribly hard for me to make you even more upset with what I must tell you. Oh well I must," he stopped and sat down on the couch next to Christina. "I have taken a very keen interest in you over the past few days, and have decided to take you as my wife. Don't start to protest, I can be very persuasive. See this folder here, dear. It contains enough information in it to set Coulmier free, though Collard has no idea. It was a great pleasure tricking him like I did. But any way, back to the deal. You will marry me, or these papers will be destroyed and Coulmier will perish." 


	9. Chapter 9 Christina

Chapter Nine- Christina

Christina sat in her chair, at a loss for words. Breath was coming hard to her and she was on the verge of fainting. "You would let an innocent man be condemned to death for the sake of your own gain?"

"I adore you Christina. I love you. Perhaps I am not as handsome as you Coulmier, but I can give you things a life with him would never permit. It wouldn't be as bad as you think. You could grow to love me," Johnson held his hand out and stroked her cheek. She hit it sharply.

"How can you be so cruel? I love him! You would do anything for me, quite obviously, don't you think I would do anything for him?"

"My dear, that is exactly what I am counting on you doing."

Christina got unsteadily to her feet and paced the room. "And what type of proof do those papers have anyway?"

"A journal. The good doctor's journal to be exact. I snuck into his office early this morning and founding. Really it isn't smart to leave personal information lying around," Johnson pulled a leather journal from the folder.

"What proof does that hold?"

"It says the doctor's entire fiendish plan. He framed the Abbe to stop the scandal he caused from leaking out. He killed the new Abbe. The doctor is the one who should be locked up," he placed it back into the folder and held it over the fire. "So, it is time for your choice."

Desperate and alone, Christina broke out in tears and fell to her knees, arms outstretched pleadingly. "Alright! I will marry you! Don't kill Coulmier, please..."

Johnson smiled and placed the folder under an arm. He walked over to the sobbing girl and knelt beside her. "Just know I do love you. I promise I will never waver from that love." With that he clamped his hands on the back of her head and forced her into a kiss. His acid breath burned her mouth, but she did not resist. She simply endured it limply. "Good girl," he whispered when he finished.

Johnson got up and went to the door and looked back. "I will tell out doctor that we are ready to travel to Paris for the Abbe's trial." Johnson shut the door and Christina sank all the way to the stone floor so that her body was pressed flat against it. There she stayed for more than an hour.

Coulmier was thinking about Madeleine. He thought about her a lot. He still loved her, but with Christina there seemed to be a lesser burden of guilt upon his heart. Madeleine seemed more and more like she had been a figment of his imagination. A siren sent to prove the lack of God. But God existed, of that the Abbe was certain. Only he wasn't the God everyone thought.

Death would be a relief. Even if it meant spending an eternity with Lucifer. At least hell was not these stone walls. He could hear footsteps, hurried and anxious. Christina's tear stained face appeared at his barred window.

"We are leaving soon," she whimpered. "The luggage is loaded and the doctor is on his way to get you."

"Good. I want this over. I hate to see you suffer so," Coulmier went to the door but stood an arms length away.

"My suffering has only just begun. But that is not what matters. You, my beloved, at least will be free."

With that a new wave of tears broke across her face and she turned sharply. Coulmier watched her fly down the hall, passing the doctor and his cronies on the way.

"Women are such timid and meek things. They have no concealment for emotions, do they?" the doctor mused as he unlocked the door.

"Are you the devil himself, Collard?" Coulmier said quietly.

"Perhaps. If not, we have a great many things in common and I must commend him on being so impeccably ruthless."

"Then you shall enjoy hell when you go there."

"Not likely. You will be there, a pebble in my shoe. Only just there, but that is enough to bring pain for the remainder of the day. Men, please take him to his carriage. We've a funeral to attend!"


End file.
